Draco's Might
by Skye-San
Summary: What happens when Draco comes face to face with what it means to be a Death Eater? Can he stand up to death? What happens when he is forced to face his Headmaster in the heat of battle and watch the unbelievable happen? One Shot. Please Review!


_**Draco's Might**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters portrayed in this story for that matter. They all belong to the lovely Mrs. Rowling and I thank her for creating them.**

**Author's Note: I wrote this story for a contest an author had awhile back and just remembered I had a fanfiction account so I decided to upload it. Enjoy and Please Review!!**

Draco Malfoy had his signature smug look on his face as he walked into the throne room of the fortress. The smile disappeared from his face, to be replaced by a look of respect as he approached the dark figure there. Lord Voldemort bid him kneel with a motion and then looked down at him, telling him to look up.

"You will be great as long as you serve me faithfully."

Draco nodded mutely, waiting for the point of Voldemort's summons.

"I want you to know that you are one of the best of the future Death Eaters, the children of these other," he shot a glowing red glare around the room at the robed figure that surrounded him with their hoods up, "people. I wish for you to train with your father, learn all his methods and one day you will be great, greater than your father even, by my side."

A twinge of worry went through Draco at this idea, being beside Voldemort and serving him for the rest of his life, never coming into his own. The thought of having to live a secret double life disturbed him slightly.

"Yes, master, I would be proud."

"And you should. I would be proud to have you come and join us in our raids and battles from now on, to prepare you. You will be able to participate and…enjoy the glory that we receive. Go, your father will summon you."

Shocked by the dismissal, he looked up at Voldemort, quickly straightening his face as he looked into those slitted eyes.

"Thank you."

Malfoy stood slowly as his father grabbed his shoulder and left the chamber, the smug smile planted firmly on his face as soon as Voldemort couldn't see it.

The thought of his latest meeting with Voldemort was on his mind as he once again walked out of the throne room into the antechamber. This time, however; he was not smiling as his eyes beheld the scene before him.

Battle raged everywhere, and he had never seen so much blood, so many bodies, lying…everywhere. He ducked through, dodging curses and hexes as they zoomed over his head and all around him. He saw his father battling mightily with Snape, their wands blurs in their hands as they shouted curse after curse at each other.

There was not much dialog going on, but some of the combatants were talking to each other tauntingly as they fought. All he could hear was snippets of talk here and there as he tried to get through and away.

"Is that all you've got?"

"I'm not done yet!"

"Get out of my way!!"

"What was that?"

"Draco!"

This last voice made him look up, and he saw his father, looking pointedly at him, and shouting for him to join the battle. Snape seemed not to have seen Malfoy and was now battling Dolohov as fiercely as he had recently been battling Lucius.

He looked fearfully at the battle, making sure his father couldn't see his expression and pointed his wand in the fray. This seemed to be enough for Lucius, as he turned and began dueling an Auror who had just tried to hex him from behind.

As soon as his father had turned, Draco tried to sneak off into the crowd and still make his way towards the door to the hall. Just as he got the door in his sights, somebody sealed it, and try as he might, he could not get it open.

The battle raged around him as he stood next to the door, wand firmly at his side, scared out of his mind. He never got off even one spell during that battle huddled there. People bumped into him and fell against him, and he almost got hit by more than a few spells.

This was not glory, this was not joy. There was so much noise and blood. The screams floated to his ears and all the people that he had seen murdered and maimed. All these memories poured in on him as he stood there, only moving to dodge hexes. He had not thought battle would be like this, so horrible.

It was like a slaughter, only the slaughter went both ways. The battle raged on, he could not tell who was winning. He did not even really want to see it. There was blood everywhere and people were falling like flies.

Then he felt it, and right after heard a loud hiss.

"_Dumbledore!"_

He looked up to see Dumbledore striding through the battle straight at Voldemort, hexing every Death Eater that got in his way. Draco had never seen Dumbledore look so angry, so determined.

Then they clashed, and it was like watching two gods do battle. Their wands were nothing more than blurs and the light and power could be felt even from where Draco was. He had never truly appreciated Dumbledore's power until just then. Just as he was sure Dumbledore was going to win, and that the Dark Lord would fall, Dumbledore saw Draco.

Even with his mask, Draco could feel Dumbledore's eyes boring into it, through it. Draco knew that Dumbledore knew who he was. Draco expected a scowl, maybe even a hex, but Dumbledore…he…smiled.

Draco was taken back by this, why was Dumbledore smiling at him. Why, shouldn't he attack, or…something?

Then the smile disappeared as Dumbledore's face was framed in a green light, like some unholy angel. For a second he looked like he was glowing with power, then…he fell.

Dumbledore fell, gracefully to the ground, his eyes closing as he fell, his last sight on the mortal plane having been a masked Draco, shaking while his headmaster was killed.

"No," the word fell out of Draco's mouth, a barely audible whisper as he looked at the crumpled form of Dumbledore.

He couldn't be dead, Dumbledore can't die, he just couldn't. Draco's mouth was hanging open as he looked at the body, waiting for Dumbledore to spring up and rejoin the fray, but knowing it would not happen.

Then he heard the laughter, that horrible cold laughter that he knew was the Dark Lord laughing over his fallen opponent. The laughter reverberated around the room and he knew that it really was over. He couldn't take this.

"No," Draco looked up to see a shaking Remus Lupin standing over to his left and in front of him. The man hadn't seen him either as he howled in rage and rushed forward, throwing hexes and curses as he walked straight at the Dark Lord. He got off two good curses before he was hit in his leg by a blue spell and fell, forgotten.

The rest of the battle was a blur to Draco, his eyes were on the crumpled form on the ground, and he didn't move, he didn't even breathe very much. He had lost his headmaster, someone who he had to admit, he looked up to. Dumbledore was…gone.

_**Fin**_


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